


bésame

by cabriesun



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Fluff, It Causes Issues, M/M, Shiro Doesn't Know Any Spanish Whatsoever, Smitten Shiro, Wingman Keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 00:55:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13306983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cabriesun/pseuds/cabriesun
Summary: Lance speaks Spanish, and Shiro doesn't. This causes issues in the long run; issues that involve Keith, who just wants to read his book. But first, he needs to (unwillingly) help two lovesick idiots open their eyes.





	bésame

**Author's Note:**

> a cheesy idea that i came up with while trying to review for my spanish class next semester (i'm three levels higher than where i'm supposed to be _cries_ ). at least something good came of it.
> 
> thanks to my fran [fier](http://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalWinterSleep) for betaing!

Spanish is a beautiful language. It’s one of the single things that all the passengers of the Altean ship grew to agree on. The realization began when Shiro was aimlessly strolling around the castle, seeking some solitude. He didn’t get any, but he certainly got something better when he walked past the door leading to the lounge area.  
  
Everyone knew Lance could sing, but he rarely sang in _Spanish_. He spoke the language fluently, but when he sang the words fell from his lips like rose petals, his voice smooth as velvet. His accent was flawless, and Shiro was stunned into an awestruck silence hearing the blue paladin’s melodic voice. None of the other paladins, Allura or Coran had ever mentioned that he sang in Spanish—only that he spoke it. Shiro was almost positive that he was the first one to be witnessing this.  
  
Lance hated when they said it, but he's beautiful when he feels comfortable enough to be himself fully. He would prefer if they called him manly beyond compare or something else other than _beautiful_ , but he accepts the kind words. His family and those he befriended on earth thought of Spanish as ‘gorgeous’ and ‘elegant’, smooth on the edges. He supposed that having the adjectives that describe the language attached to him was part of the culture.  
  
Allura and Coran were the ones that were the most enthusiastic about this new discovery. They would sit Lance down and make him repeat whatever English word they uttered in his native language.  
  
Lance had to stop them once they dipped into Altean vocabulary.  
  
Pidge and Hunk already knew he could speak another language, so they didn’t join the wave of fascination. Keith was the one that left Lance surprised, yet at the same time, unamused.  
  
“Most of the time, I _hate it_ when you talk,” he had said upon hearing him speak Spanish first the first time, “but when you talk in Spanish, it’s kind of nice.”  
  
He took the compliment, nonetheless. He was just happy that the fascination rested in the fact that he could speak another language, rather than sing in it.  
  
It was the same story for everyone.  
  
But now his ears were flooded with the Cuban boy’s lyrics, and his heart was screaming at him. Shiro had always admired Lance; though he was goofy and too cocky for his own good. He had amazing qualities aside from what he presented to the rest of the world, and Shiro acknowledged those.  
  
_“Ay de mí, Llorona, Llorona de azul celeste…”_  
  
They’d all been together for awhile, and Shiro knew that soon with enough time spent with each other (alone, in space, on a floating castle ship) feelings would sprout somewhere. He just… _didn’t expect it to be him_. With _Lance,_ of all people. Not that it concerned him in the long run, but he just didn’t expect to be head over heels with someone that he originally had to physically force away from Keith almost every other day.  
  
_“Y aunque la vida me cueste, Llorona, no dejaré de quererte…”_  
  
He leans his head on the doorway, breathing out of his nose quietly and not wanting to startle him into silence. He never wanted this to end. Lance’s back was turned to him, eyes trained on the device he was scrolling through as he lounged on the couch.  
  
Though Shiro had no clue what he was saying he listened, the language enrapturing him and sending his brain to unknown places. He _loved_ Lance’s voice.  
  
_“No dejaré de quererte…”_  
  
A sudden sigh interrupts Shiro’s trance, and he looks up from the spot on the ground he’s looking at.  
  
“God, Takashi…” He whispers to himself, and Shiro has to stop himself from falling. _What about him?_  
  
“ _Bésame_ , Takashi,” Lance is scrolling through something on his phone, eyes drooping and a pout forming on his lips, “ _Por qué no me amas?_ ”  
  
His heart sprouts, confusion muddled with curiosity seizing him. _What is Lance saying?_ Why does he have to speak goddamn Spanish the one time he’s talking about _him?_  
  
Shiro makes a decision and bolts out of there before Lance can turn around and spot him, making a mad dash to his room and locking the door behind him, practically out of breath. Although he’s not sure if he can’t breathe because of running, or because of Lance.  
  
Probably the latter.  
  
He’s freaking out if that isn’t obvious enough. He remembers some of the words, though they’re vague, fading from his instant memory.  
  
_Pen and paper_.  
  
He bursts into his quarters, knocking his dresser off balance in his rush. Steadying it with his Galra arm he opens the drawer and pulls out a pen and paper hastily.  
  
“What did he say…” Shiro mutters to himself, teeth grinding against each other anxiously, his mind whirring for answers.  
  
“ _Besa…_ ”  
  
_What else, what else?!_  
  
“ _Por qué_ … _amas_?”  
  
Shiro sighs, looking at the three words in the foreign language he had jotted down on the piece of paper. An unsteady hand travels through his tousled hair. He had…three words. Did they even make a sentence? God, he was speaking so _fast_ Shiro’s surprised he picked up on _any_ of it.  
  
What was he supposed to do with this?  
  
He stands up, clutching the scrap of paper close to his heart as he looking around his room, gathering his thoughts. Allura and Coran might have an idea of where he can find out some information on Spanish, yes, but he doesn’t to bother them as they’re working on upgrading the castle’s defenses.  
  
So he goes to Keith the next day, hoping to get some results.  
  
Probably his first mistake.  
  
“Just ask him,” Keith flips through his book and paying Shiro no attention, “you’re the leader of Voltron. You have authority. Act like it.”  
  
He crosses his arms grumpily, that of a child as Keith continues.  
  
“Your crush on Lance has obviously gotten out of control. So much, that you’re willing to bring the ends of the universe together to find out the meaning of three words. Three words that Lance most _certainly_ knows.”  
  
“I can’t just ask him!” He exclaims, tugging his hair.  
  
“Why _not?_ ”  
  
“Because he said my name before he spoke! He was talking about me!”  
  
“Then that’s even more reason for you to ask!”  
  
“Keith! That’s…”  
  
“What?”  
  
“It’s embarrassing…”  
  
“Takashi, you are _twenty-five years old_.”  
  
“I didn’t date back in the Garrison, as you _know_.” Shiro gives Keith one of his own signature deadpan glares. Keith sighs, putting his book down and holding his hand out.  
  
“Give me the paper.”  
  
“What? What are you going to do?”  
  
“I’m going to ask him what the words mean Shiro.”  
  
“Oh! Keith! _Thank you thank you thank you!_ ”  
  
Shiro drops to his knees and hugs Keith below the belt, squeezing his legs tightly as a token of his gratitude. Keith’s body falls slack, folding his arms.

 

+

 

“Hey, Lance.”  
  
Lance shifts, turning around to face Keith and lounges in the other direction. He grins, keeping it classy and egotistical. Keith raises his eyebrows, still confused as to why Shiro has such a huge crush on such an obvious goofball.  
  
“What’s up, Keith?”  
  
“I was wondering if you could tell me what some words in Spanish mean?”  
  
“Oh,” Lance sits up, suddenly serious as his eyes travel to the paper Keith is clutching in his grip, “what are they?”  
  
“Uh…” He unravels Shiro’s paper, proceeding to attempt at pronouncing the string of letters he scribbled down. Shiro’s handwriting was _not_ the neatest either.  
  
“ _Por_ … _qué_ …” He attempts the easiest ones first.  
  
“Are they separate or together?”  
  
Keith’s face twists into a confused expression and Lance rolls his eyes.  
  
“Are _por_ and _qué_ separated? As in, there’s a space in between the words.” He tries to grab the paper, reaching out with his fingers, but Keith turns briskly. Shiro’s handwriting is notorious; Lance would be able to know that Shiro was the one asking.  
  
“Yes, yeah, there’s a space between _por_ and _qué_.”  
  
“Then it means ‘why’. Anything else?”  
  
“Yeah, uh… _amas_?”  
  
“Uh… _amas_? It means ‘you love’…” Lance mumbles, blush painting his tan cheeks, “anything else…?”  
  
Keith’s eyes widen. He’s catching on to what the next word probably means, and he does _not_ want Lance to get the wrong idea. This was Shiro’s grave he was digging.  
  
“Yeah, but…”  
  
“But what? What’s the word?”  
  
During Keith’s stagger of the mind, Lance manages to seize the paper from his now motionless fingertips. He doesn’t react fast enough and isn’t able to stop Lance from discovering the truth.  
  
“This is Shiro’s handwriting…”  
  
That’s it.  
  
_The gig is up_.  
  
“Because _Shiro’s_ the one asking--” Keith groans, calling out to his nervous wreck of a friend, “Shiro get out from under the table, face this like a man. I can’t just be your _buffer_ the entire time.”  
  
“Under the table…?” Lance’s face reddens further when Shiro sheepishly appears from _under the damned table_. What the hell? What was going on?  
  
Meanwhile, Shiro was hating being in his own body right now. Keith had let him down and now he had to face Lance head on. Granted, he shouldn’t have been this nervous in the first place. If anything, Lance is his _friend_. He should have been straight up with him in the first place. Despite his deepest, darkest fears, Lance wouldn’t just turn him away with a wave of his hand.  
  
Would he?  
  
Keith puts the paper in Shiro’s awaiting hand before walking out of the lounge area. This left Shiro and Lance alone in the room to sort through the situation they had gotten themselves into.  
  
“So,” Lance glances at his hands, suddenly self-conscious, “you couldn’t just ask me to translate the words? You _had_ to go through Keith?”  
  
“No no,” Shiro interrupts straightaway, “it’s not like that. I was just worried. Nervous to uh…approach you about it.”  
  
“Why? It’s just a few words Shiro--”  
  
“They weren’t just a few words Lance… _you_ said them.”  
  
He doesn’t seem to remember, visible incertitude capturing his features while tilting his head to the side. It’s cute; so cute that Shiro almost forgets his goal of confronting the situation.  
  
“It was,” He groans, “I could barely remember it myself… something along the lines of, _Por qué--_ ”  
  
“ _Bésame, Takashi. Por qué no me amas._ ”  
  
Lance stands as Shiro sighs in relief, the missing pieces suddenly filled. It was a simple sentence; if he hadn’t been so entranced by the boy’s voice then _maybe_ he could have figured it out himself.  
  
“Yes, _exactly_.”  
  
“It means, ‘Kiss me Takashi. Why don’t you love me’.”  
  
It’s Shiro’s turn to feel the embarrassing burn of his skin flushing pink. His worries have been whisked away by the tidal wave of utter consolation, and the feeling of idiocy replaces it abruptly. He really should have just said something to Lance first instead of freaking out and letting what he thought was one-sided infatuation grow to this point.  
  
“It--it’s stupid I know and I’m sure you want to be going about your day so I’m going to just go, yeah?”  
  
Lance tries to leave and avoid any further humiliation, but Shiro catches his arm swiftly, pulling him back to stand before the black paladin.  
  
“I swear to you,” His thumb reaches to rub the skin along his jawline, “if I knew a single word of Spanish, I would have done this a day ago.”  
  
“Shiro you don’t have to--”  
  
“No no--there’s no _have_ to. I want to. I have _wanted_ to.”  
  
“God, I am an _idiot_.” Lance closes his eyes, chuckling quietly as Shiro’s fingertips morph into his whole hand cupping his cheek, “I am such, an idiot.”  
  
“You and me both,” He sighs, content as Lance slips closer, prompting Shiro to place his Galra arm on his hip.  
  
“You’re taking too long you know.”  
  
“Too long?”  
  
“ _Bésame,_ Takashi. God, I really thought you caught on.”  
  
“Oh, right,” Shiro swallows his embarrassment long enough to bring their lips together in a heart-melting kiss. If he took anything from this experience, it was certainly to learn a little more Spanish. He was sure this wouldn’t be the end of the misunderstandings.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading :)) hope you enjoyed!
> 
> here are links!  
> my [vld sideblog](https://sheith-keef.tumblr.com/) and the main page for [shiro loves you baby](https://shirolovesyou-baby.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> also,  
> a writing/art event (coming soon) run by the slyb mods, [#wrecklance2k18](https://wrecklance2k18.tumblr.com/)! (if you'd like, of course)


End file.
